


Birthday Surprises and Stories Shared

by AnxiouslyGoing



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek AOS
Genre: ABA Therapy mention/Shown briefly, ADHD Jim Kirk, Ableism, Academy days, Autism Acceptance, Autistic Leonard McCoy, Family, Friendship, Kid Fic, baby bones
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-01 12:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18334373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnxiouslyGoing/pseuds/AnxiouslyGoing
Summary: It's Len's birthday and Jim is very insistent about him opening his present, and maybe opening up a little more about himself as well. Len agrees to both things, but not without a few conditions of his own.





	1. A Birthday Surprise

Len rolled his eyes at the package on his bed. "I thought I told you I didn't have birthdays anymore," he complained as he stored away his bag.

"Well, you know me. Stubborn pain in the neck," Jim shrugged sheepishly.

"How did you even find out it was today? I didn't tell you."

"No you didn't. In fact, in the year and a half I've known you, I think I've told you more about me, than you've told me about yourself. Which is unfair, by the way. I think we need to even that out a little. But you can divulge your tragic backstory later, open the package."

"You know this is completely unnecessary."

"Nice try, but you own me at least one childhood sob story. Now open the gift."

"That's not what I meant. That too," he pointed for emphasis, "but, that's not what meant."

"Just open the gift."

"Jim-"

"If you don't like it, we can exchange it."

"I don't need-"

"Bones!"

Len folded his arms over his chest. "On one condition."

Jim gave a dramatic groan of frustration. "What?"

"I'll open the gift if you promise to let me do something of _my_ _choosing_ for your birthday."

"Only if it's just us, or us and Pike at the most," Jim replied after a careful moment of thought. "And you have to tell me a story."

Len rolled his eyes, but agreed, "Done."

"Now open _iiiiiit_." Jim practically bounced in his chair.

Len sat on his bed and put the box in his lap. "I dunno. I thought maybe I'd start with the story."

"C'mon!" Jim cried. "I've been waiting two weeks for you to open that!"

"Two weeks?"

"Yes! I had order it. Now, please, open the gift!"

"Alright, alright. Keep your shirt on!" Len shook his head and tugged off the simple wrapping paper he was fairly certain was just red construction paper tapped together. "Aw, Jim! A _box!_  You shouldn't have!"

"I'm _this_ close to murder, Bones."

Len snicker and picked at the tape before finally pulling off the lid. He paused and stared at the red shirt folded carefully inside. Across the front in a white almost messy front was written "#Redinstead" and beneath it in a simpler font it read "Autism Acceptance".

Jim watched his face carefully. "I know it can be kind of sore spot for you, so if you want to exchange it, that's fine. I'm not gonna take it personally, I promise."

Len smiled softly. "There's no need for that. It's great, Jim. Thank you."

The blond gave a bright grin. "Cool!"

"Guess I have to try it on now?"

Jim shrugged. "I stole one of your tee shirts when I was ordering it to make sure I got the right size, so it should fit."

"Is that where my Ole Miss shirt went?" Len demanded.

"I put it back," he replied innocently. "And you don't really have to tell me a story. I was just saying that."

"Because you were trying to scare me off," Len nodded. "I know, but your right. It's only fair if you know a little more about me aside from y'know, migraines with projectile vomit and autism. Don't stress out about the birthday thing though, I was just thinking I might buy you an ice cream or somethin'," he teased. Stood and moved to sit on the other bed to be closer to Jim. "So. Story time. I was about eight when I was diagnosed, it was just a few months before my birthday. I think my dad knew before, but it was one of my teachers that suggested we go to a specialist. She gave a recommendation for the doctor who diagnosed her niece. Mom went home and made an appointment and a week later I was being assessed. I didn't know for what exactly. They kept calling it 'asd' or 'the spectrum'. I must have done a pretty bad job of it though because at the end of the session I had an official diagnosis."


	2. A Story Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief glance at Len's childhood from around the time he was diagnosed with Autism.

"Leonard has autism." The doctor spoke in a solemn tone.

Mrs. McCoy's eyes went wide. "What can we do about it?"

"We'll do some assessments, and decide on a therapy if it becomes apparent one is needed. Leonard seems to function well, though, it may not be needed."

"Therapy?" his mother echoed. "What about a cure?"

"There isn't one, dear," Dr. McCoy explained. "It's a developmental disorder-"

"Then why didn't you see it sooner?" She demanded.

Her husband shook his head. "It wouldn't have made any difference. He was born with it."

"And it can't be fixed?"

"There are therapies to help children with autism adapted to everyday life, and to help them function in social setting," the pediatrician explained patiently as he could. "There isn't anything we can do about Leonard's neurology, but we can help him function at a more normal level. I know this is a lot to take in, but you're very lucky. While it is apparent, Leonard's case is still very mild, he would be considered high functioning."

"Then why do I have to do therapy?" the youth finally spoke up.

"Leonard, look at me," the doctor requested.

Len managed to brings his eyes to the doctor's face for a brief moment before they flitted back down to the man's tie. It was green plaid.  

"It's polite to look at people when they speak to you."

"I am," Len argued.

"At their face, Leonard. Look at my eyes when I speak to you."

Leonard tried again. His eyes met the older man's for a brief moment before drifting off. He tried several more times but the doctor only sighed.

"That's why you need the therapy. It'll help you learn things that are important for interacting with people and you're going to be doing that for the rest of your life. These are important things to learn, Leonard."

"It's hard to think when I have to look at people's eyes though," he tried to explain.

"You'll get used to it," the doctor assured. He turned back to Len's parents and it was as if the boy ceased to exist.

 

___

 

"Am I still allowed to go to school?" Len asked as he climbed into the car.

"Of course," his father assured and started the car. "Autism doesn't mean you're sick or can't go to school. It just means your brain works differently than most people's does."

"But you shouldn't tell people about it," his mother cut in curtly.

Len frown. "Why not? Is it a bad thing?"

"No."

"Yes." His parents spoke in unison.

Mrs. McCoy turned a look on her husband. "It can be," she told him. "It makes you different. Other children might not understand that, so it's best if you don't tell them so they can't tease you about it."

"Oh. But what about my teacher? If it makes my brain work funny, should I tell her?"

"We'll take care of that for you," Dr. McCoy assured. "There's nothing for you to worry about. Nothing has really changed about you, we just have a name for it. That's all."

"But if there's nothing different then why did I have to go to the doctor?"

"Len-"

"Is it because I don't look at people's eyes when they talk?"

"Well, that is part of it. But there are other things too. You know how sometimes the lights make funny noises and make your head hurt?"

"Uh-huh."

"That's part of it too."

Leonard frowned thoughtfully and stared out the car window. "But why is it a bad thing?"

"It can make life very difficult," Mrs. McCoy answered. "That's why doing therapy is so important."

"Can it make me not hear the lights anymore?"  Len asked hopefully.

"No, but it will teach you to not be bothered by it anymore."

"Oh." His frown returned. "Does it make me bad too? If I always had autism, and it's bad, am I bad too?"

"You're not in trouble for it, if that's what you mean. It's not your fault you were born with it. It's bad because it can get in the way of a lot things, like having a job or a normal life. But you don't need to worry about that. The doctors know how to help. But for now, it's best to not tell anyone, alright? You only need to talk to the doctor about it."

"Yes, ma'am," Len replied dutifully not feeling very convinced by his mother's words.

 

___

 

"Leonard, Ms. Sandra is here to do some therapy with you." His mother called from just outside his bedroom door. Leonard put his book down and came into the living room.

The woman smiled when she saw him approach. "It's nice to meet you, Leonard, I'm Ms. Sandra."

"Nice to meet you," he replied sounding a little bored, and looking just to the left of her arm.

"Are you going to shake my hand?"

His eyes flicked to her face for only a second. "It's polite to let the lady offer her hand first."

Ms. Sandra laughed. "Well, that piece of etiquette is a little antiquated, don't you think?"

"No."

"Don't be rude now," his mother warned.

"I answered her question," Leonard replied, not understanding his mother's response.

"It's alright," the therapist assured. "This gives us a place to start. Now, Leonard, I want to try this again, but I want you to look at me when you greet me, alright?"

___

 Leonard slammed the door behind him and collapsed onto his bed, burying his tear stained face into his pillow. There had never been a problem with his behavior before, he didn't understand why it matter so much all of a sudden that he didn't look directly at people all the time, or why it mattered that he didn't like shaking hands, or why it mattered that opening and closing his fists helped him feel calmer. It wasn't fair. None of this had mattered a week ago. None of it mattered till the doctor told his mom there was something wrong with his brain. His stupid, stupid brain! He struck the back of his head with the heel of his hand, wishing her could be normal.

A firm hand gripped his wrist and Leonard let out a shriek as he jerked away and rolled over to his back. His father took a step back, waiting for Leonard to calm a moment before sitting at the foot of the bed. "It didn't go so well then, huh?" He asked gently.

Len sniffed and scrubbed his reddened cheeks. "I don' wanna do this again," he managed to get out all the words.

His father nodded. "I know, son. But it really can help you. Your mother and I wouldn't have made you do it otherwise."

The boy frowned and tried to scrub away the tears before they ran down his face.

"Does your head hurt?" Len only nodded. His father held out his arms and Len moved to sit next to him. He scooped the boy and set him on his lap. "You know you really ought to be more gentle with your head. After all you only get one."  As he spoke he gently massaged Len's head

"It's broke anyway."

Dr. McCoy sighed. "It's not broken, Len, it just works a bit differently than most other peoples."

"Mama asked the doctor to fix it. Only broken things get fixed."

"It's not as simple as that, son. There is a difference in the way your brain processes and functions and there are some ways that it could be better. You always say how there's not a lot of people who like to play with you. Doing this therapy can help that. That does _not_ make it broken."

"But I don't like it! Ms. Sandra doesn't listen. She asks me questions then stops me 'cause I'm not looking at her the right way. I tried to tell her that it's hard to think and it makes my eyes are blurry when I look at her eyes, but she won't listen! Mama says I have to listen to her, but they won't listen to me!"

Dr. McCoy kissed Len's head. "Can I tell you a secret? I think it will help with Ms. Sandra and the therapy."

Len turned his head to look at his dad. "Really?"

"Mhm. There's a spot on everyone's face called a glabella. That spot is riiight here." He lightly poked the space between Len's eyebrows. "And if you look right there, I bet she won't even know the difference. But it's our secret, ok?"

Len nodded eagerly. "Gla-bel-la." He giggled at the funny word and repeated it several times in varying speeds and tones.

Dr. McCoy smiled at Len. "I'll see if I can talk them into only once or twice a week instead of everyday. When I'm done I'll come help you study for that math test."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't go into a great amount of detail in this chapter about how ABA is done, in part because I don't have first hand experience in it, and in part because I wanted people to look into it for themselves. I can paint a picture of it for you, but it doesn't do as much as it would for you to take some time to sit down and do some reading for yourself. I think it would mean more that way. A few years ago, I did some essays on ABA, and doing the research for myself definitely gave me a new perspective on the subject.   
> Something I do believe that is very important to share is that the man who founded ABA did not believe the children he worked with were actual people. He believed that he and other therapists had to build them using his therapy method. http://neurodiversity.com/library_chance_1974.html  
> I've read that very often insurances will only cover ABA therapy and so nowadays there is a lot of things going on that are called ABA, but are not. That is not the case here.


	3. An Epilogue (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returning to the present time.

Len shrugged a bit self-consciously. "Kinda got more than one, but, um," he shrugged again, "that's kinda how being diagnosed went." 

"Don't take this the wrong way," Jim held up his hands. "But that explains so much."

"Yeah," Len agreed with a sigh. "Yeah, it does. My dad was able to get it down to four times a week, but part of the compromise was that it was two hours on Saturday instead of one." Bones shook his head. "I appreciate the shirt, but you're gonna have to be patient with me about wearing it. I don't want you thinkin' I'm just saying that so you won't feel bad. I do _really_ do like it. But...it's part of me that I'm not real comfortable with yet. Still."

"I know it's not. It kinda makes a lot of sense with what you just told me so don't worry about. Thank you for telling me, by the way."

Len nodded. "You were right. I should open up more. I mean if you're really plannin' on makin' me your CMO we need to be able to talk to each other."

"You're definitely gonna be my CMO," Jim replied confidently. "I still appreciate you talking to me though. I know talking about stuff like that isn't easy for you. _But_ I have to admit, I did have an ulterior motive for getting you that shirt."

Len arched a brow. "Alright?"

Jim grinned and pulled off his sweatshirt. Underneath he wore a bright orange tee shirt  with a black font that looked like it was supposed to be written in blood that said "This is my Neurotypical Costume". "There was a two for one sale." 

Len erupted into laughter. "Because October is ADHD Awareness."

"Not too much?"

"It's perfect. Both of them really are."

"Happy birthday, Bones."


	4. A Birthday Surprise (For Jim)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time it's Jim's birthday, and Len is making good on Jim's promise to let him do something for the big day.

"How's the essay comin'?" Bones asked, glancing up from his own reading when Jim dropped his head onto the desk with a groan.

"I would pay to never have to write a conclusion again. I know they're _supposed_ to be kind of redundant because it's summarizing the whole thing, but I always feel a little stupid writing them."

"Want me to take a look?"

"Please. I'm not sure if I'm actually missing words or if my brain is just tired of reading them and leaving them out."  He moved out of the way and Len took a seat at the desk.

"You're definitely missin' words, kid."

Jim let out another frustrated groan.

"Quit your belly achin', it's an easy fix." Len made a few quick adjustments. "There, see?"

Jim leaned over and read over Len's shoulder. "Thanks, Bones."

"That all ya had to do?"

"Yeah. That's it." Jim replied and rubbed his eyes.

Len hopped up. "Great! Let's go." 

"What? Go where?"

"To dinner. I'm buying. Happy birthday," he grinned smugly, clearly more than a little pleased with himself. 

"And here I was hoping you forgot," Jim sighed.

Len gripped Jim's shoulder. "Look, we don't have to if you don’t want too. I know it's not your favorite day. But. You did ambush me on mine so I think it's only fair that I get some form of revenge."

Jim chuckled and shook his head. "Alright, fine. Besides, can't really say no to free food, right? Did you wanna change or anything?" His question almost sounded like an offer.

Len glanced down at the shirt Jim had gotten him, just a couple months previous on his own birthday. "No, I think I'm good," he replied with a crooked smile.

"Cool," Jim grinned.

 

\----

 

"This is amazing," Jim said for at least the fifth time as he took another bit of chicken curry. "But y'know we could have gone some place you liked too."

"I know. But I also know you've been wanting to try this place. It's your birthday, Jim, it's supposed to be something _you_ enjoy. Besides, it just means I'll be eating more desert. So. Any requests tonight?"

"Don't they do some free desert here on your birthday?"  
"I think it's some cake. But that's not what I meant. I told you I would work on being more open, so…what do you want to know?"

"Really?"

Len shrugged. "Think of it as your birthday present."

"What made you decide to be a doctor?" Jim asked after a long moment.

Len  chuckled. "That's a story and half. I had traumatic break in my right wrist."

"Are you kidding? I figured that was a safe subject."

"Not quite. There was this tree in my backyard, y'know the kind that has a few branches just low enough to be able to pull yourself up into? It was one of those, and the branches were just perfectly spaced for climbing. Mother was always terrified I was gonna fall and break my neck. Course, that didn't stop me any."


	5. Another Story Told

The branch cracked loudly beneath Leonard's feet and he knew he was in trouble. Len squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath. He hoped maybe if he could just be still enough the branch would settle and he would be safe. 

He had no such luck.

The branch gave way with sickening snap _._ He didn't even have time to scream before he hit with a loud _crack_.

Len tried to push himself up and found that the loud cracking noise hadn't been the branch hitting the ground, but had come from his now useless arm.

Well. The fall hadn't killed him, but he was fairly sure his mother would.

His wrist certainly hurt, but there was none of shooting pains like it was described in books. Not unless he tried to use it. If anything he knew something was seriously wrong by the way his hand hung limply from his arm.

Thank goodness his dad was a doctor.

Len pushed himself to his feet, and swayed, suddenly dizzy, but he managed to stay up and made his way to his father's home office.

"Hey, dad," he poked his head in the door. "Do you have a second?"

"What did you do?" His tone might have been teasing, but just at the moment the question was a little too ironic.

"Well, I didn't break my neck.," Len tried to sound conversational. 

Dr. McCoy was across the room in an instant. "Let me see it." He pulled Len into the room and closed the door behind him. Len offered his damaged wrist.

"I think it's broken," he offered helpfully.

Dr. McCoy arched a brow at his son. "It's definitely that. Come over here and I'll splint it so it won't do more damage on the way to the clinic."

"Can't you fix it here?"

"If you want it to heal the old fashion way we can leave it in the brace for up to a month. But we still need to go in so I can see the damage done."

Len scrunched his face. "So I have to tell mom?"

"I'm afraid that a little inevitable, son."

"Can we at least wait till it's fixed?"

"I think that's a fair compromise. Let's get you taken care of now."

 

Len watched curiously as his father bound his arm in a temporary setting, he imagine the contraption would be far less comfortable had he not been given any pain medication. 

"What you probably did was fracture these two bones right here." Dr. McCoy pinched his own arm just above the wrist.

"So my wrist is fine?" Len asked.

His dad nodded. "Usually with falls like this it's the radius-" he ran his finger from Len's thumb to the elbow "-and the ulna." He ran a finger Len's pinky to his elbow. "Which is lucky, even though it's two bones, and two simple fractures, there's a lot more bones in your wrist."

Len scrunched his nose. "What's 'simple' about a broken arm?"

"Well, it means that the break was clean and didn't puncture the skin. It's a lot easier to manage when there's not a risk of infection from your bones making a surprise visit," Dr. McCoy explained. Len grimaced and held his arm a little closer to his chest. 

 ---

"Can I see?"

Dr. McCoy turned the PADD around. "Do you remember which is which?"

Len paused for a moment surprised by the separation between his hand and arm. "The radius," he pointed to the bone under the thumb, "and the ulna," he pointed to other split bone.

"A plus! It's going to take a couple hours, so now that we know what we're working with, let's get you set up." Len winced as Dr. McCoy began working. "Do you need a little more pain medicine?"

The youth nodded. "I think so. How does it work?" He asked while his dad gave him another injection.

Dr. McCoy smiled and explained each step of the regen process as he carefully fit his son's arm into the device. Len sat completely enthralled, hanging on to each word, not wanting to interrupt even to ask questions. 

Len nodded thoughtfully. "Does it work on organs and stuff?"

"There are different ones than this, but yes, there are ones made for that. They've made a big difference for doctors working in the trauma units, and greatly reduced the need for donations. Of course there's still quite a bit that we can't do yet."

"Like what?" Len finally looked up from the machine that now encased his arm like an overlarge brace. 

"Well, there's a lot when it comes to neurology that we're still working on. Ideally one day we'd be able to fix people's spines as easily as your arm. We've made a lot of progress, but we're not quite there yet."

Len nodded slowly and returned to staring at his rapidly healing arm. 

Dr. McCoy chuckled.  "I see those wheels turning. What are you thinking?"

"I wanna try it."

"Wanna try what?"

"I wanna try to figure out how to help people walk."

"So you wanna be a doctor?"

Len nodded again. "I wanna help people too. I wanna make them better." 

His dad grinned brightly. "Well, I think you just made my day." 

 


	6. Epilogue (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back once more to the present.

"Mother wasn't nearly so exciting about my new career choice, and I ended up grounded but, there you have it. How I ended up bein'a doctor." Bones took another bite of ice cream as he finished his story.

 

"Why wasn't she happy about it? Your dad started the clinic, wouldn't she want it in the family?" Len glanced away and Jim knew he asked a bad question. "You don't have-"

 

"She didn't think it was a good fit for me."

 

Jim nodded, accepting the simple answer and not pushing for more. "Thanks for dinner, Bones."

 

Bones gave half a smile. "Happy birthday, Jim."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I left this one short and sweet mostly because I didn't want to take the focus off the story already in progress, and because I feel like Jim's question and the full answer could fill a fic by itself.

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to BeautyGraceOuterSpace for believing in me that I could get something together in time for April and Autism Acceptance Month. It's not what I originally had planned, but I think giving some background first will work better.  
> Also many thanks to Trekkele for her amazing art that helped inspire this piece, and for making my day with picture of Autistic!Bones in an Autism Acceptance shirt.  
> Ideally this will have four chapters. Two Birthdays and two childhood stories, but I love doing backstory so we'll see.  
> Also shout out to my cowriter Kirk-to-Engineering for proof reading.


End file.
